


Change.

by FakeK



Series: Truths of Technoblade [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoptive Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Technoblade Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29703339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeK/pseuds/FakeK
Summary: Technoblade hates change, but change happens and he can't stop it. Maybe, if he does something to himself, he'll like that more. But, maybe not. He'd try anyway.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Truths of Technoblade [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112438
Comments: 2
Kudos: 105





	Change.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be warned! This contains sort of implications of self-harm and self-hatred (definitely that). Read at your own risk!

**I SOMETIMES HATE WHO I AM AND WHAT I LOOK LIKE.**

Technoblade waited for a bit. Phil had left for whatever reason, he didn’t bother listening long enough to figure out why. All he needed was the information that Philza would be leaving. It sucked that Tommy and Wilbur would still be home, but it was uncommon that all three were gone and Techno was left home alone. He felt like he  _ needed  _ to do this. Soon, preferably. So, he’d do it soon. Today. Right now.

He knew that Wilbur and Tommy wouldn’t be paying attention much, they never did. Tommy was probably talking to Tubbo or playing some video games, and Wilbur was playing some guitar. Techno could hear it from his room.

Then, he picked up the hidden bottle of hair dye and a pair of scissors lying on his desk. The hair dye was hidden in a cardboard box underneath his bed. He knew that they would eventually find out what he did, but anything to stall them was worth it, so anytime they were not around was good. Next, he quickly slid his way into the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. Which was pretty easy when you weren’t Tommy.

As soon as he had his things set on the counter, he turned back around and locked the door. No one could come in, not now, Techno had already gone too far to stop.

He sighed once the door was finally shut, slumping his shoulders. Techno had felt so tense around his family, he didn’t want them to judge him, and now that he was alone (he was alone before, but it felt different), he felt more comfortable.

Looking to the mirror, Techno saw himself. What he thought of himself.

Shoulder-length (boring) brown hair that was super plain—it was simply straight, when he was younger it had a slight curl but not anymore—fell limply. Eyes the color of blood that made everyone stare at him, along with glasses that looked too big on his face. Deep, black bags hung beneath them. Skin three shades too pale that had continued to lighten after being adopted along with his other “features” made him look like a monster. His nose was too big and his ears, too pointed. Everything about him was too much. Too fat, too skinny, too long, too short. Contradictions were all he thought of, but every single one was right. His hair was too long, but also too short to hide his face properly. He felt too fat, but knew from looks and questions he got that he was too skinny—he felt it too. He only had one burn scar on his face, and luckily, it was more hidden. On the right side of his neck, beneath his hair, was a long scar that wrapped around his neck to the back, and down his spine.

Technoblade gritted his teeth, letting out a sound akin to a growl before roughly tugging at his hair. His eyes flashed greedily to the dye on the sink, taking his hands away, strands of hair came with. Neverminding that, he picked up the dye, turning it over in his hands, he shot one more look at himself in the mirror before tearing the packaging away from the actual dye.

He had never learned—or bothered to try to learn—how to use dye, but in that moment, the only thing on Techno’s mind was changing himself into a perfect form.

Pink overwhelmed his senses, beginning to rub it into his hair messily and quickly. It splattered across the pristine white sink, staining its pureness. Wow, Techno did another thing wrong! What a surprise.

He didn't bother washing his hands off when he picked up the pair of scissors. Techno went straight to hacking away at the hair he had worked so hard to grow out to cover the scar. Years of care and hard work disappeared in seconds. No, Techno didn’t deserve the luxury of having hair that was pretty and neat. He was a useless piece of-

Then, he noticed the crying. In the mirror, through all the pink in his vision and the demolished hair, he was crying. He also notices the sound of knocking on the door before it quickly faded.

Crap, Wilbur, or Tommy had heard him.

Techno rushed around the room, trying to clean up the place, but sounds of feet racing back to the door were heard and a minute later, the door stood wide open with Techno’s adoptive brothers staring at him with wide eyes.

Wilbur had fuc-

Wilbur had picked the lock.

Curse Technoblade for asking Wilbur if he wanted to learn with him!

Techno saw their eyes flash around the room. From chunks of poorly dyed hair and a sink stained pink to his hands covered in pink too—it looked like a murder scene.

Wilbur slowly and carefully walked forward to Techno, holding one hand out towards him like Hiccup from  _ How to Train Your Dragon _ . It was as if Techno was a frightened dragon and Wilbur was trying to calm him. Tommy stayed in the doorway, peering around the side, and leaning onto it. Only his head and hands were visible to Techno. Well, they would be if Techno had been able to see at that time.

All he had been able to see was Wilbur and pink. It was like anything in Techno’s peripheral vision was blurred for him like when he wasn’t wearing glasses or contacts. He wasn’t wearing his glasses now, those were left in his bedroom, and his vision was not good. So what was blurred just looked like abstract art in colors of brown, white, and red mainly. Not to mention the pink.

“What did you do?” Wilbur asked softly with scrunched eyebrows.

“I-I… I did this. I dyed my hair pink and cut it. I cut it, Wil. I really just cut it,” Techno muttered in a tone he didn’t recognize.

It had finally begun to set in Techno’s mind what he had done. Techno had ruined his hair by cutting it. He realized that he had preferred it long. He liked it before, and he deserved to have one thing in his life that he wanted. At least he had dyed it how he wanted… 

Tommy came fully into the bathroom and went behind Techno. He ignored this. Techno felt that his brothers needed a better explanation. They deserved that much.

“It didn’t feel right…” Techno started. “ _ I _ didn’t feel right. I-I wanted to change myself, so I did. I think that my wants have changed now though… I do like the pink though.” He paused before starting again. “Do I deserve what I want?”

Wilbur looked Techno in the eyes, or that’s what Techno thought. He couldn’t see it very well.

“Of course, Techno. If it’s what you want and it doesn’t majorly damage anyone else, then yes. Of course, you do,” Wilbur answered. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes…”

Wilbur immediately approached Techno, opening his arms and wrapping the shorter boy in them. He didn’t seem to care if he stained his sweater in pink. One hand reached up to the small of Techno’s back, rubbing it softly. Tommy walked out of the room, he seemed to have been scrubbing at the sink poorly beforehand. Techno let his head drop onto Wilbur’s shoulder, he was too tired to hold it up. He felt embarrassed he’d do something… like that. He didn’t even want to think about the crimes he'd just committed to his hair. His poor hair…

Tommy returned a minute or two later, awkwardly carrying a stool from the kitchen. He set it down in front of the sink before turning to his brothers.

“I brought a stool,” he announced.

Tommy pulled Techno away from Wilbur’s embrace and pushed him into sitting on the stool.

“What do I do?” Techno questioned as soon as he was stable on the stool. He didn’t want to fall off.

“You mean; what do  _ we  _ do,” Tommy said, crossing his arms. “This is officially our problem as well.”

Techno smiled, why did he have such nice brothers.

“I say we just cut off the rest.”

Nevermind, Technoblade retracts his previous statement.

“No! We can’t do that, Toms,” Wilbur exclaimed. “Here, how about I’ll trim it and try to make it look even?”

Techno gave a small nod of confirmation before Wilbur picked up the stained scissors. Basically, everything was stained pink in the bathroom. It was a mess. The scissors weren’t the best for cutting hair—they weren’t made for cutting hair after all—but they’d have to do, no one knew if there were any proper hair-cutting scissors in the house, and they weren’t bothered enough to try and find a pair. They just had to get it done.

He had always liked his hair to get played and messed with, but now he did not. Wilbur’s hands felt foreign to his head. Techno tried to struggle away without notice, but Wilbur always lightly tugged him back. At least Tommy tried to keep him distracted.

“...Y’know, I know another word for dog.”

“Puppy,” Techno answered. He, of course, knew what Tommy would've said, but didn’t allow him to finish.

Tommy laughed. He was trying to make Techno feel better, but that seemed to just mean make Tommy laugh instead.

“Andddd we don’t let him answer that.” Wilbur also let out a laugh, and Techno let himself huff out a laugh as well. Carefully though, he didn’t want to move his head too much and botch Wilbur’s attempt at fixing his hair.

Tommy huffed and grumbled, a telltale sign of thinking of a joke that was too terrible to get a laugh out of anyone. “You’re impossible, y’know.”

Techno smiled. “Whatever are you talking about?” More grumbling.

“I hope you- I hope you-” Tommy allowed himself to cut himself out. This really wasn’t very funny. “I don’t never die.”

“What? No context??”

“You do realize that that means that you never not die.”

“What does that mean? Never not? Never heard of it.”

“I wonder why…” Techno muttered. That seemed to have ruffled Tommy’s feathers because squawk-like indignance began spewing out of his mouth.

Soon, the bathroom returned to relative silence. The only thing filling the air being the sound of scissors cutting away at Techno’s hair. It was dreadful and made Techno’s ears ache with new-found hatred. Had he really just learned to hate sound as normal as scissors cutting hair because it would remind him of what had happened today?

As the silence truly began to settle in, Techno spaced out, just staring at the mirror without looking at himself in it. He already knew he was a disaster anyway. His mind was empty; no thoughts, no noticeable feelings, just nothingness. A door opened outside of the bathroom.

A door opened outside of the bathroom. The front door opened.

Wait-

The front door opened?

The front door opened, which meant Philza was home.

The three in the messy bathroom looked to each other, eyes wide and scared. They hadn’t even thought about what Phil would say. In a nonverbal conversation, Tommy hopped off the sink where he was sitting and ran out of the bathroom to stall Phil. He slammed the door behind him, Wilbur slid after him and fumbled to lock the door.

Techno and Wilbur stayed quiet, now Wilbur wasn’t cutting his hair, but scrubbing at the sink. What Tommy had been trying—and failing—to do. He wasn’t getting very far.

“I’m sorry… I know this is a hassle. That  _ I’m  _ a hassle,” Techno murmured softly.

“Oh, Techno… We’re the ones that got into this with you—for you. We wanted to do this. It’s not your fault. I promise,” Wilbur

“But-but-”

“Shh… We’ll figure something out.”

Tears began streaming out of Techno’s eyes. “He’s not gonna like that I did it! He’s gonna be mad at me!”

“No… no… Phil won’t be mad at you for this. There’s no way. I’ll protect you if he is.”

Techno tried to quiet himself as loud talking from outside of the bathroom was heard. There were some loud footsteps as well. The heavier one is Phil and the lighter one being Tommy.

The footsteps stopped in the hallway, it was obvious that Tommy had managed to get in front of Phil and stuck his puny arms out to stop him. Phil could’ve easily gotten through the blonde child, but chose not to. Techno and Wilbur could hear what was being said by the two, whether Tommy purposely got Phil to speak loudly by talking loud was unknown to the two.

“You- you’re not allowed to go any further!” Tommy exclaimed.

“Why not!?” Phil questioned.

“Because- because… I said so!”

“I think I have more power over you, Tommy. Move.”

“No! I won’t.”

“You leave me no choice then…”

Faint shouts and squeals were heard from Tommy, along with some struggling. It seemed that Phil had decided to lift Tommy up to get around him. The approaching continued until both had stopped in front of the bathroom door. Wilbur and Techno looked at each other in fear, a silent tear rolled down Techno’s face. Wilbur cautiously approached the door.

“Boys, let me in. I know you two are in there.”

Neither responded, but they could hear Tommy tugging on Phil’s arm, trying to get him away from the bathroom. What a loyal brother. Techno was glad to have him while it lasted.

Phil sighed. “C’mon, I just want to know what you did. It’s gotta be pretty bad if you’re going to this extent to hide it from me. Did you break the toilet—again—maybe the sink, shower?  _ What did you guys do _ ?”

There was silence.

“Technoblade. Wilbur Soot. Open this door. Immediately,” Phil demanded.

“No! I won’t do it!” Wilbur exclaimed, resting one hand on Techno’s shoulder lightly.

“Wilbur, open this door.”

Wilbur shook his head frustratedly. “No!”

“I promise! It’s nuttin’ sus or bad!” Tommy exclaimed. He wasn’t sure they’d keep Phil from finding out eventually, but he’d keep his brother from being discovered for as long as he could.

“Hah. Somehow I don’t believe that.” He knocked on the door loudly. “Wilbur, I’m gonna need you to let me in.”

Wilbur looked to Techno, tears still streamed down his face, and he sniffled lightly. He pulled Wilbur’s ear close to his mouth.

“Go ahead…” he whispered. Another loud knock.

“Are you sure?” Wilbur looked into Techno’s eyes. They were dull, but the light they did have seemed to urge Wilbur to unlock that door. A simple nod and a light push towards the door was all that it took for Wilbur to comply. “Alright, Techno. I trust your judgment. I’ll unlock the door.”

He edged closer to the bathroom door—the handle jiggled—and a bit closer—the hand on Techno’s shoulder was taken off—and closer—muffled talking was heard. Finally, Wilbur had stopped a few inches from the door. He gulped. Wilbur knew Phil wouldn’t do anything to them, maybe a bit of reprimanding, but nothing to the extent Techno thought. Although this was still countered by fear, if this was before Wilbur had been adopted, he would’ve been feeling much different. He was glad that he had gotten adopted by Philza when he did, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any trauma anymore. His anxiety was better than Techno’s though.

Taking a breath, Wilbur spoke, “I’m unlocking the door.”

As he had his hand on the lock, he heard the muffled voice of Tommy. “Are you sure, Wil?”

“Yeah… Techno said it was fine.” Shooting one more glance to his now pink-haired brother, Wilbur unlocked the door. He would let Phil be the one to open it.

As soon as the door clicked—a telltale sign that it had been unlocked—Phil burst through the door, looking angry and confused and suspicious all at the same time. All of these feelings seemed to melt off his face as soon as he saw the state of the bathroom and brothers.

Tears still tainted Techno’s cheeks and eyes, and Phil, as soon as he saw Techno, quickly brought him into a tight hug. Techno stiffened in fear at first but quickly realized that he was safe and relaxed.

He choked back a sob, inhaling loudly. “I-I’m sor-sorry! I don’t know what I was thinkin’, what I was doin!’” Techno burst, his seams had finally popped, and all of his emotions came flowing out at every crack where it once only dripped. Technoblade’s hands bunched wads of Philza’s jacket up into his fists.

“Hush… hush…” Phil soothed. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.” He glanced down at the boy. “Oh, Techno, please stop crying… We’re gonna fix up your hair, and we can get it done just how you like. We can go shopping too if you like. Maybe a guys’ day out? Just us two?”

“I want Wil and Toms too…” he murmured.

“Of course! Of course! Anything. Just please calm down, sweets.”

Techno sniffled loudly, nodding against Phil’s chest. Wilbur brought himself into the hug, dragging Tommy along, but no protests were heard.

The minutes passed as Techno began to calm down from his anxiety attack and crying. Soon, even the sniffling had stopped and the three boys and their father were left, holding each other.

Phil let out a sigh, releasing from the hug. It was a process when three clingy boys were also trying to make him stay, but he managed.

He gave a small smile to the boys, who had decided to separate after their father figure left the hug. Techno sat back down on the stool, glaring at his hair.

“While I was out I got ice cream. Would anybody like some?” Phil asked. He obviously knew the answer. He was talking to his boys about ice cream after all, and Tommy happened to be one of his boys.

“ME!” Tommy shrieked, jumping up and down. “I want ice cream!” Phil laughed at Wilbur and Techno, who winced.

“Alright, alright. Quiet down or you don’t get any.” Phil left the bathroom, maneuvering around the three others in there along with the stool. Why were they still in the mess of the bathroom? It was so cramped. Nonetheless, Phil got the ice cream set out into four bowls and four spoons, and brought it back to the bathroom.

He passed the bowls of black cherry out to the boys, before taking a seat on the side of the tub. Wilbur, who had been standing since walking in for the first time, sat on the toilet lid. Tommy stayed seated on the sink counter, and Techno stayed on the stool.

“Thank you…” Techno murmured after a small bite of his ice cream.

“Your welcome, Techno. Now, would you mind explaining?” Phil questioned softly, looking up at him. Techno shot his eyes to the side.

“Wilbur…” A simple call to get his brother to do it instead.

“Techno… cut his hair, and dyed it, obviously. Um… yeah… he got a bit… I dunno, stuck in his head? And did it,” Wilbur explained awkwardly. He would gladly explain for his brother, but he was not his brother. He couldn’t get every detail right. “He didn’t want to tell you because he was scared you’d be mad. I hope you’re not… Sorry.”

“Oh, boys! I’m not mad. I already said that. Here, we’ll finish up our ice cream and then I’ll fix your hair, Techno. It looks like it needs it.”

“Hey!” Wilbur exclaimed indignantly. “I did that!”

Phil laughed. “It looks terrible!”

Techno allowed a smile to slip onto his face as he caught the gaze of Tommy. He winked at the kid. Tommy blinked back (he didn’t know how to wink). After another moment, Wilbur settled down a bit, still muttering about how well he cut Techno’s hair.

“I’ll get a shower started for you too,” Phil added. “While you’re in there we can clean up out here.”

“Phil… It’s my mess. I made it. I can clean it up,” Techno challenged.

“I  _ love _ cleaning!” Tommy butted in. “It’s my  _ favorite _ pastime, and I don’t get to do it  _ enough _ ! Techno, will you  _ please _ let me clean up the bathroom…” It was an obvious attempt at trying to get Techno to let them do it, but it was sweet. Everyone knew how much Tommy did not like cleaning, yet he was saying how much he loved it to get his older brother to take care of himself.

Techno deemed this enough torture for his brother. “Fine… After I’m done with my ice cream I’ll get in the shower and you guys can clean up.”

“Alright!” Wilbur cheered.

They seemed to devour their ice cream quicker than normal. Leaving Techno the last one still eating. Or maybe they hadn’t, and Techno had simply gotten more in his bowl. The answer was unknown, but when he did finish Phil took his bowl—and Wilbur’s and Tommy’s—and brought it out. When he returned, he held scissors that were presumably made for cutting hair. Apparently, they did have some in the house.

The bathroom was silent besides the sound of the scissors snipping away at Techno’s hair. The noise had changed so much for Technoblade in the span of a half-hour. What had been a sound that he was apathetic to turned into a sound he could not bear, and now, it was a sound that had a slightly comforting effect on him. How had so much yet so little changed for him so quickly?

The silence was comforting. For a house that was usually full of rambunctious noise to be quiet was uncommon, but it was now, and everyone seemed to be enjoying it. Tommy looked to be almost asleep from where he sat on the sink. Sometimes his head would loll to the side, and his eyes would blink extremely slowly before flitting back open quickly and popping back up. Wilbur seemed to enjoy this. He watched Tommy and smiled when it happened—smirk really.

Once the hair cutting was done, the others left the room, leaving Techno to get his shower ready. He undressed quickly before switching on the warm water and waiting for it to warm up. Or, well, he turned on the hot water and waited for it to burn his skin. Techno liked really hot showers.

A minute after he got into the shower there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Techno called. The door opened and Phil greeted him.

“Hey! I brought in some clothes for you, Wilbur, Tommy, and I are going to get started on cleaning the bathroom up. Lemme know when ya want us out,” he said.

“‘Kay.”

More sets of footsteps entered the bathroom. Then the shouting started.

“Wilbur! Where’d ya put the mirror juice!” Tommy exclaimed. What was mirror juice?

“‘Where’d ya put the mirror juice!’” Wilbur mimicked. “What the heck is mirror juice!”

“Y’know… the- the mirror juice!” Techno knew he was waving around a roll of paper towels.

“I don’t know!”

Phil sighed, opening the cabinet and pulling out a spray bottle. “Here ya go, mate. Here’s your ‘mirror juice,’” he said.

“Aw yeah! Poggers!” Tommy sprayed Wilbur. Luckily it didn’t get in his eyes.

“OW!!” Wilbur screamed. Oops! But it did get in an open cut on his finger.

Techno laughed. If he could finally do that freely, he might be okay. And for now, he figured, that was enough.

The next day was a surprise for Techno. Typically, on Sundays, they’d go to the park for a picnic that often ended poorly and spend most of the day there, before heading home for dinner. Dinner usually consisted of junk food while they watched a movie. That was not the case today.

Techno woke up late. A product of the previous tiring day. Feelings made him sleepy and want to sleep; he had gone to bed early and  _ still _ woke up late. Going downstairs groggily, he was greeted with the smell of toast and egg sandwiches, one of his favorite breakfast foods. Only waffles, burritos, and cold, leftover spaghetti.

“Good morning, Technoblade!” Phil greeted, he stood at the stove cooking another egg. Others laid on a plate nearby. “Wil’s in the shower and Tommy is still sleeping. We can eat once they’re out and about. Woulda mind wakin’ up Toms?”

“Nah…” Techno grumbled slowly. “It’s fine.” He hobbled down the hallway leading to Tommy’s and Wilbur’s rooms.

He gave a brief knock on the door before entering the room. Tommy wasn’t a heavy sleeper, but he fell asleep easily. “Wake up, Tommy. Phil made egg toast sandwiches for breakfast.”

The blonde groaned, stretching his limbs. “‘Kay,” Tommy slurred. “Be up in a minute…” Techno left the room, he knew Tommy would follow through with this. Wilbur would’ve less so.

Techno went back, sitting down at the table and leaning his head onto his crossed arms. His hair fell across his face. The pink had mostly washed out after he had showered, lingering coloring had stayed, but it did not look very good. The cut was fine though—Techno would have preferred it longer though.

Soon, everyone was ready to eat and they began. Oranges had been added to the breakfast menu, and cups of milk and a mug of coffee were now on the table too.

Munching into the sandwich, Techno sighed contentedly. Yum… 

“Techno… Tommy—actually—came up with the idea of going to get your hair fixed. I heard that you liked it pink?” Phil announced once he had finished swallowing his first bite.

“Oh? That would be nice,” Techno replied quietly, sending a small smile at his sleepy younger brother. A grin was what he saw on his face. Maybe he wasn’t so sleepy.

“Alright! We'll leave a bit before noon. Be ready in about two hours, boys.”

The trip was admittedly, very fun. It wasn’t just getting Techno’s hair fixed, but also a complete surprise that Phil was letting  _ all  _ of the boys out to pick out their own clothes for a while. Techno couldn’t imagine how much they had spent. And the clothing part was caused by a comment Technoblade had made. Just a simple: ‘I’ve kinda changed what kind of clothes I like.’ That was all it took for Phil to let all the boys have free range. They were lucky Phil had a good job.

Techno’s style had begun to change months ago. Barely noticeable, but if you looked close enough you could see the dusting of eyeshadow on his eyes and the eyeliner. He had started wearing darker clothes. Techno was working towards an emo phase.

And Philza let him. He let him get some dark lipstick. He let him get the chunky combat boots he had seen in the window of a store ages ago but had never felt confident enough to ask for them. Techno’s serotonin levels boosted tons. Finally, he felt better about himself. Less hate overtook his head. It was still there, but the voices telling him this had calmed—if only a little bit for a little while.

When they returned to the house and all their new things were put in the laundry or wherever, Techno pulled his family—Philza, Tommy, and Wilbur—into a big hug. Squeezing tightly and hoping that it would last for as long as he lived. Not the hug, but them, and the relationships he had formed with them. He wanted those to last.

If Technoblade couldn’t love himself, he could at least love the ones who did love him.

“Thank you…” he murmured. “If you love me, I might just feel that radiation and die from it.”


End file.
